Illusory Reconciliation
by TumblingEtceteras
Summary: How long can friendships last before secrecy begins to sting? Post 2x15: Tin Soldiers


**Post-2x15: Tin Soldiers**

The ice-cold beer sliding down Callen's throat could do nothing to soothe the sting caused by the image scorching his retinas. Every time that his eyes drifted shut, in exhaustion and defeat, he was tormented by the unusual burn in her molten brown eyes.

Both of them had grown accustomed to using duplicitous words as a shield. They knew how to hide feelings and painful histories behind an intoxicating mix of banter and officiousness. It hadn't taken long for Callen and Sam to realise that Kensi's incessant self-mocking was simply a cover for her fear of commitment and abandonment. Callen's status as closed-book hadn't required second thought or analysis.

It was this shared refusal, this art of deception that had inadvertently brought the pair closer, however. Expert in their own disguises, they had learned to read the other's. In a language of looks, and sometimes of slurred cryptic messages delivered when drunk, they began chipping away at the other's defences.

At least that's what Kelsi had thought.

_"You have friends who love you but you keep them at arm's length"_.

When Callen had drawn up the plan for the first part of their -_his-_ undercover operation, casting Kelsi as the alluring fortune-teller Esmé, he had expected their encounter in the club to be teasing. Beforehand he had amused himself trying to figure out the embarrassing facts about him that Kensi would draw from her ever-growing arsenal. He had been caught off guard when instead she had used the opportunity to speak to him with a frankness that she would never normally have attempted sober.

His heart had stopped for a moment as he fought not to let her words affect him. Her grip on his hands, digits pressing uncomfortably, kept his mind focussed. Her eyes were trained on his, saying so much more than her stark words. Beneath her cool gaze and flawlessly executed script was a disappointment and anger that disturbed him.

It was a further jolt when she released his hand, and his brain flicked fully to operational mode until Nayam-Singh had fallen hook, line and sinker for their ploy. Only then, as Deeks led him away, did Callen chance one last look at Kensi, who had herself completely slipped back into her alias.

The adrenaline rushing through Callen's veins at the thought of discovering more about the man at the beach was ultimately more than enough to push away almost every thought of the team, of his friends, and to goad Callen back into what Sam disdainfully referred to as his lone-wolf mentality. So much so that Callen certainly didn't catch the amplified look of hurt, this time comingled with shock, that Kensi had fixed on his form as he swiftly departed from the OPS room. He was out of the room by the time that she slammed her fist down on the table in frustration, and too locked in his own thoughts to hear the sound of the door slamming after her.

When he belatedly returned to _Gladstones_, just as Kensi had disarmed her attacker and been backed up by Sam and Deeks, he certainly felt the sting of her silence. Apart from the glance that she sent him when he arrived, and the disinterested look with which she followed his sit rep, her eyes evaded his.

Only hours later, once the team had saved his butt in the ambush, and as Kensi brought Arkady to him, did she grant him some sort of acknowledgement. He soon lost even this when he permitted Arkady's release.

Even back at the hacienda she had ignored him, choosing to indulge Deeks and take his side in the team banter rather than be seen to engage with Callen. As they began to switch off their computers and head home, laughter bouncing off the walls, Callen's mood had been darkened further by Deeks' departing words to Kensi.

"See, sweetcheeks, we can live happily ever after like Callen and Sam".

Despite launching a book at him for calling her sweetcheeks, Kensi's smile betrayed her agreement. She slung her bag onto her back soon after, sending a 'goodbye, Sam' over her shoulder. At that, Callen's friend shook his head lightly.

"She's not as forgiving as I am," he murmured. His smirk was a paltry cover for his suggestion that the day had still left plenty of issues unresolved.

That memory brought Callen back to the present. Knocking his head lightly against the cool wall behind him, Callen shook his head in frustration. Feeling the oppressive weight of his cellphone as he balanced it in his hand, Callen took a deep breath and pressed speed-dial three.

He wasn't at all surprised when it rang out.

Determination coursed through his veins with this final confirmation that amends had to be made before work the next day. Straightening his back, Callen dialled again. The predictable sound of ringing was cut off abruptly when Kensi answered after mere seconds.

"Callen?" Her questioning tone barely hid the irritation in her voice.

He could have apologised straight away. Perhaps he might have offered some pretence of being worried about her. Instead it was far too easy to fall back into their familiar pattern of deception veiled behind teasing and jocularity. "I just wanted to see if you wanted to finish that game of chess we were playing the other night?" Days before, Kensi and Callen had become engaged in a never-ending chess battle. As the game had progressed, each move had become more and more drawn out −so much so that Kensi had easily been lulled into a beer-fogged sleep on the floor of Callen's living room as he deliberated his next manoeuvre. It was that night that she discovered that one of the only items present in his flat - besides the chess set and beer bottles constantly stocking the fridge - was a simple double bed.

Now nothing was further from Kensi's mind than the memory of waking up that morning, tucked into a bed that she hadn't known existed, to a note from Callen telling her not to panic and that, as hard as it was to believe, he had managed to buy one piece of furniture, online of course.

"For Christ's sake, Callen, it's past midnight," she replied through gritted teeth. The anger and frustration were patent, despite her desperate efforts to control her voice and keep her emotions in check.

Callen resisted the impulse to match her tone, knowing that her excuse was hollow. She never tried to get to sleep early after a big case. If she wasn't spending time with the team, or sitting watching some movie or other with a tub of ice-cream and a beer, she would be working out in order to burn off some steam. In fact, on that particular occasion, the faint breathiness of her voice had immediately signalled to Callen that the latter had been her chosen form of distraction that evening. Her blatant anger only reinforced that suspicion.

"It's not like you're sleeping, Kens," Callen tried again with a cajoling smirk.

"Typical," she muttered under her breath. "Well, if that is what the infamous G. Callen demands then who am I to disagree. Of course I'll just fall into line".

Unlike earlier that week when he had needed to bury his reaction to her blunt words under a curious expression, Callen allowed himself to visibly wince at her harsh tone. "Kens, I get that you're mad but please, just listen. I'm - " His voice was soft as he tried to silently communicate the warring of his emotions and how foreign this conversation felt to him. Silence was - apart from her tense breaths - his only response.

Before he could continue, Kensi cut him off. "Just don't, Callen. Don't be one of those guys that says things because they think it'll fix stuff. I don't even think you know what you're supposed to be sorry about," she mused after a moment's pause.

Callen was fighting an internal battle as he weighed his emotions and the best way to convey them: he could apologise and hope that Kensi would accept it; he could try and explain why he wasn't able to trust yet. Or he could find a way to evade both truths. He got the impression that the final option would deliver the end of his friendship with Kensi.

"I'm sorry for shutting you guys out. You know that it's not that I don't trust you: I would never have asked you to meet with Singh if I hadn't known that you would be able to do your job and - ".

Again he was interrupted. "That's just it, G." The undertone of Kensi's voice was no longer anger but disappointment. "I'm not just one of your agents. I'm supposed to be your friend".

"It's the same thing!" Callen retorted. "If I couldn't rely on you, as my friend, I couldn't trust you as a fellow agent".

Kensi shook her head. "No, Callen. I get that at work we have to try and separate our work from our personal lives. We have to make operational rather than emotional decisions. The thing is, right now work _is_ personal for you. You're making all these rash decisions and going all lone wolf on us...and at the same time you expect us to throw ourselves into the face of danger for you. We're not doing that because you're our boss. We're doing it because we care about you".

"Just because I can't say it doesn't mean that I don't know and appreciate that, Kensi".

She sighed desperately: the softness of his voice and his obvious remorse made it difficult for her to continue. "I don't think you even think about it, sometimes, though. When I met Singh at the restaurant, you just sent me in there and disappeared. I almost got stabbed and not once did you think about the risk I put myself in for you. Jeez, I don't think you even contemplated it when you finally turned up".

Callen pressed his palm into his forehead as he tried to still the thoughts swirling through his mind into some sort of coherent pattern. In honesty, he hadn't really ever considered the danger that Kensi and the others were willing to go through for him. He tried to convince himself that it was because they were more than capable of looking out for themselves. Deep down, however, he knew that on this particular occasion it had been because he just hadn't stopped to consider it.

He didn't need to tell Kensi that. "I don't know how I'm supposed to fix this. You know that I would never consciously put you in harm's way". A nervous sigh escaped his lips. "Maybe, maybe I don't rush to justify things to you because I know that you get it - more than Sam". With the silence that followed Callen could picture the embarrassed, caught-out expression that would likely be gracing Kensi's face. It was one of his favourites. "I mean, first your father...then your fiancé?" This time it was his turn to interrupt her attempt to answer. "I'm not trying to turn this back on you. I'm really not. But maybe the reason that we work is because we don't have to do all the talking stuff".

Folding her knees and tucking them under her chin, Kensi let her head droop. "Maybe if that stuff was ever relevant to the rest of you then I wouldn't be so secretive," she reminded gently.

"Maybe", Callen repeated teasingly. "Or maybe it'd be Deeks that was stuck with you and he'd be too scared of you to ask".

"Please," Kensi laughed. "Deeks is not scared of me". She didn't need to see his face to know that Callen was smirking. "Perhaps a healthy amount". The laughter disappeared almost entirely from her voice. "Maybe you should be more scared of me".

Callen pursed his lips. They would be stupid to admit that matters had been resolved. It might have been even more stupid to ever believe that one small conversation could change that; but they had no choice but to move on.

"You wouldn't be my favourite agent if I were scared of you".

They would continue the pretence.

For now.


End file.
